


September, Yet Again

by ottermo



Series: Fandot Creativity [17]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Fandot Creativity, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 19:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12306627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottermo/pseuds/ottermo
Summary: Backdating fills from Fandot Creativity Night. So far: Arthur takes some pictures, a very cheesy flight-deck game is undertaken, Martin gets hold of the wrong bag, and Douglas receives a card...





	1. Camera/Middle

**Author's Note:**

> I was pretty distracted this FCN (actually doing things irl instead of being holed up in my room with just my phone can do that, I guess) but I guess these should go here for the sake of documentation.

 

Arthur brought his camera to work the following Monday, and proudly clicked through all the pictures he’d taken at the wedding. Herc nodded and “oohed” dutifully at the countless selfies and group shots. It seemed Arthur had managed to get a picture of every possible combination of guests, some posed stiffly in rows, some sitting candidly at their tables. There were even a few featuring Carolyn smiling, which was a testimony to how thorough Arthur’s photography had been. The only unifying feature of the collection was that the heads of the subjects were placed firmly in the middle of the frame every time, with a great expanse of trees and sky above and a little of their torsos below.   
  
“You’ve got a spot of ‘Heads-in-the-Middle’ syndrome, I see,” Herc said mildly, after viewing a particularly arresting picture of Douglas’s brother brandishing a cake knife. “Is that a stylistic choice?”   
  
Arthur thought seriously about this. “Probably,” he said. “I like to have a bit of background. Just so you can remember the place you were in.”   
  
Herc looked at the next picture, which was mainly of a white wall, with Martin’s head and shoulders in the centre. “I see what you mean,” he said. “Very distinctive, yes.”   
  
“It didn’t quite work with pictures of Snoopadoop, though,” Arthur said thoughtfully, clicking to the next picture. Carolyn and Herc were both looking down at something out of frame. Carolyn’s expression was jubilant, while Herc’s was one of horror.   
  
“Hmm, I think I’ll remember that particular moment for its own reasons,” Herc said ruefully, remembering his humiliation at having to perform a soft shoe shuffle on the lawn before being able to re-enter the reception hall. He would have to get rid of the shoes. Carolyn would only bring up the incident every time he wore them, otherwise. “Do me a favour, Arthur, and _don’t_ print that one out.”   
  
Arthur looked baffled. “Mum’s already asked for that one especially.”  
  
“Of course she has,” Herc sighed, resigning himself to the fact that their shared mantelpiece would soon sport a photograph of the moment he’d realised he’d stepped in Snoopadoop’s own wedding gift to the happy couple.   
  
Still, there was at least one picture of Carolyn _dancing_ towards the end of the reel, so perhaps revenge could be served in a similar style.

 


	2. Cheddar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I've used this game before somewhere... let that be another indicator of how not in the game my head was this FCN :')

 

Douglas had started it off with “A is for Asiago”, at which Martin had raised his eyebrows but known better than to argue, this early in the game.   
  
“B is for Brie,” he said casually.   
  
“Can I have a go?” piped up Arthur.   
  
“Be our guest,” said Douglas, mentally recalculating which letters would be his if they moved to a three-person format.   
  
“C is for Cheese,” said Arthur grandly.   
  
The pilots hesitated.   
  
“Ye-es…” Martin said, “But what kind of cheese?”   
  
“Just normal cheese,” Arthur explained. “You know, the normal yellow sort that’s always the cheapest in shops.”  
  
“Mm, but what is it called?” Douglas asked pointedly.   
  
“It’s not called anything,” Arthur said patiently. “It’s just cheese. The others have to have names because they’ve got something different about them, but normal cheese is just cheese.”  
  
“Well, alright,” said Douglas. “Some of us like to call it ‘Cheddar’, in fact, but since that begins with C as well, we’ll let you have it. D is for Dubliner.”   
  
Martin huffed at the laxed rule but added, “E is for Edam.”  
  
“F is for Fancy,” said Arthur after a pause. He answered their questioning glances with a gesture toward the cheese tray. “The one in the shiny wrappers, like they’re all dressed up for a cheese party.”  
  
Douglas chuckled through “G is for Gorgonzola,” and looked forward to Arthur’s entry for 'I’.

 

 


	3. Bag

 

Martin crossed the apartment in the kind of sleep-deprived daze that was peculiar to new fatherhood. He swiped vaguely at his bag to check his license was in its pocket, but failed even to find the pocket. He looked down at the bag, puzzled. Something was wrong with it. It had changed size and colour. And the zip pocket was in the wrong place. He frowned and shook the bag slightly, though somewhere in his brain he wondered if that was a practical solution.   
  
A newborn wail sounded from elsewhere, and he heard Theresa’s voice calling him. “Martin! Have you seen the changing bag anywhere?”  
  
A few moments later she appeared in the doorway, holding a bag that looked much more like Martin’s flight bag than the bag on his shoulder did. A grin played over her tired features. “Yes, I think perhaps we should swap bags before you go to work. You might not get very far with that one.”  
  
Finally it dawned on him, and the effort of laughing at his mistake shook him a little more awake. He handed over the baby’s changing bag and accepted his flight bag in return.   
  
Sure enough, _this_ one had his license in the pocket.   
  
“If you were still with MJN I might have let you leave with it,” Theresa said mischievously, “But Captain Loutre might not appreciate it as much as Douglas would have.”   
  
“You’re all heart,” Martin said, smiling as if he hadn’t noticed her snap a photo of him standing by the door with the changing bag, moments before the swap. Doubtless that buzz in his pocket was Douglas expressing his amusement already.

 


	4. Jealousy

 

Douglas was picking Verity up from school for the first time in a long while, and he shuffled uncomfortably in the queue of parents waiting outside the classroom door. Most of the others were women in their thirties - there were a few fathers too, but all of them were significantly younger than him, save for a white-haired man bent over a walking stick who must surely be somebody’s grandfather. Douglas was glad to see the first few children trickling out into the corridor, and concentrated on looking for Verity instead.  
  
Before long she appeared in front of him, holding two very large cards, which were lavishly decorated with glitter and paint. After he’d hugged her hello, she held of the cards out to him. “We had to do Father’s Day cards,” she said matter-of-factly.  
  
Douglas took it, trying not to glance too obviously at the second card, and feeling a stab of jealousy at not being the only recipient. “Thank you, sweetheart.”  
  
On their way to the car, he opened his card. The inside was entirely covered by Verity’s big, loopy handwriting, on both sides of the fold. He began reading, and the smile on his face grew wider and wider as he read the list of reasons why he was just The Best (number eleven: “you can fly planes that are MUCH FASTER than Maisie Wilkins dads car WHATEVER SHE SAYS”). The reasons ranged from ridiculous to heartfelt, and culminated in the words “I love you” picked out in purple glitter.  
  
By the time they reached the car Douglas had decided he didn’t mind what was in the other card. Verity let it fall open while she climbed onto her booster seat, though, and he couldn’t help but grin at the sight of the words “dear darren happy father’s day love Verity” written in very minimalistic HB pencil.  
  
He also couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

 

 


End file.
